


Buff Bodies

by orphan_account



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Happily Ever After series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is all LovelyLaura's idea - her headcanon fitted so perfectly with Happily Ever After that she very graciously let me borrow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buff Bodies

Syed stood in the middle of their living room staring at his husband, jaw hanging open, unable to believe what he'd just heard coming out of his husband's mouth. “You must be mad!”

“Maybe a little crazy...” Christian agreed. He bit his lip, waiting for the inevitable explosion. “...but it makes sense.”

“You can't go into business with me, Christian! You just can't! I'll ruin you! I'll screw up everything that we have! We've only just found a house! Look at what I did to my parents!”

“And look how well Masala Queen did with the two of us running things.”

“Mum and Ian ran it.”

“Your Mum and Ian popped by the office in between sticking their nose in everyone else's business.”

“You do remember we only spent so much time there so we could be together.”

“Exactly! We work best together. Best time I ever had was working with you. Being your bit on the side I could have done without but I had the time of my life with you and I want that again...and you didn't screw up Masala Queen, did you? It was after we left that your parents and Ian let it fall by the wayside.”

“Because there were too many memories of us!!” Syed cried, standing up.

“Or because we weren't there. You and me...we work. Worked at Masala Queen. Worked when you helped me set up to become a personal trainer, worked when you studied massage and became self-employed. The only times it hasn't worked for you, Sy, is when you've been doing it alone,” Christian stepped up to Syed and brushed a finger over his lover's chin, course stubble grazing Christian's soft skin.

“But you'd be in charge,” Syed pressed.

“We'd do it together. Our own business. Being a personal trainer is fine but I want something more. There's going to come a time not too long from now when I won't be able to do it all myself. I'm not as young as I once was and I want to build something with you. I'll do the fitness stuff, you do the massage and beauty stuff. We make a three year plan, plough whatever we make back into the business. Get some gym equipment, an extra guy for the gym, a beauty therapist to help you out. As we expand we'll take more of a back room role and we'll get more staff to help out.”

“We'll never get the capital to start beauty AND fitness, Christian. We'd have to start with the fitness and add the beauty stuff later. At least I could do sports massage – I might need to do another course first and I could do reception and look after the books while you take classes.”

“But you're not interested,” Christian clarified, his face absolutely straight.

Syed hung his head and let out a long sigh. “Don't give me your dreams, Christian. I'll only disappoint you.”

“'Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams',” Christian quoted a favourite poem. “I wanted a child, you gave me a child. Shabnam is five months pregnant. Kamil and Zainab are settled now, he's got a place at Yasmin's nursery, she's got that management job at the takeaway up the road...its time to start setting up for the future, Sy. Our future. Our life together.”

“I'm still doing my masters.”

Christian reached out and picked up Syed's hands. “And when you finish that? What are you going to do then?”

Syed looked up at Christian and let his eyes slide shut as warm, familiar hands brushed through his hair. Lovingly, intimately. “Sy...be realistic. In this climate, us two, a washed up old queen and a failed property salesman come part time foodie, who's going to give us a job, eh? I'm not trying to be pessimistic, its great that you went back to uni when you wanted to but we need to do this. For ourselves. For us and our family. Set up now while the kids are small, just me and you. No family, no parents and siblings butting their noses in and telling us what to do. It'll be our business, just the two of us.”

“We could lose everything.”

“We did lose everything. We hit rock bottom in case you've forgotten. The only way is up.”

“And what are you going to call this genius idea? Buff Bodies?”

“Sure. That works.”

“I didn't mean....”

Christian grinned his naughty grin. “Too late.”

“You can't call it that! I was just kidding!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don't care. I like it. 'Buff Bodies. Syed Masood, proprietor.'” Christian swept a hand across an imaginary doorway.

“Are you trying to get me banned from another mosque? And how much is it going to cost, this bright idea of yours?”

“Lets just say, we won't be getting ourselves a mortgage any time soon. On the other hand if we get into arrears and get turfed out we could still sleep at the gym, so there's that,” Christian teased his husband, sliding arms round his waist. Syed was coming around, just as Christian knew he would.

“This is a terrible idea,” Syed muttered.

“You love it!” Christian's hands began to unbuckled Syed's trousers.

“Christian! What are you doing?”

“You up for a bit of celebrating?”

“No! You're dragging me into something I know I'm going to screw up.”

“Screw up against the wall or something a bit more exciting? I was going to suggest oral myself but if that's what you want...”

“Stop messing around!”

“Who says I'm messing? I'm horny! And don't think I can't see the bulge in your trousers!”

So they had sex and after sex there was snuggling and after snuggling there was dinner. Christian had a couple of evening clients and while he was out Syed put the numbers together because, he told himself, he needed to know what he was getting into before he said yes. Researched properties, looked up business rates and equipment costs and running costs and estimated client numbers from Christian's current schedule and the success of his training in London. He was already in bed by the time Christian got home and he sighed contentedly as Christian climbed into bed, freshly showered, in his soft cotton pyjama bottoms.

Could they do this? Make a go of things?

“Switch it off!” Christian teased him.

“What?!”

“Your brain!” Christian rolled over and pulled Syed into his arms.

Syed nuzzled into his husband. “I love you, that's all. I don't want to lose you.”

Christian kissed him on the temple. “You won't. Now go to sleep.”

 

It took Syed a while but eventually he drifted off. The following morning in his small desk at the university he found himself working through projections and formulating a business model instead of working on his thesis like he was supposed to be doing. By the time he was ready to go home he had a first draft of a rough three year plan printed out and tucked safely away in a clear-fronted folder.

 

He arrived home to find that Christian had cooked dinner and was all over him, clearly happy with the way things had gone the day before but Syed sat sullenly, poking at his dinner, worrying.

“Alright, enough! Spit it out!”

“Spit what out?”

“Have you looked at the numbers?”

“A bit.”

“And?”

“They make a lot of sense,” Syed admitted.

Christian was confused by how sad Syed seemed to be at this obviously positive news.

“Can I see them?”

“After dinner.”

“You don't seem too happy about it.”

“If the numbers had said no I could have turned you down. The numbers say yes, the numbers say this has as good a shot as anything and that means that this idea is viable. That means that we can make a go of it. It means that there's something there for me to lose, ok? Another opportunity for me to hurt you like I hurt you before.”

“No,” Christian said firmly.

“No? What have you forgotten? The Argee Bhajee? Danny? The look on your face when you were about to walk out of that restaurant one final time? I promised to honour you, Christian. What if I can't trust myself to do that. What if I dive into this thing with you and do that to you again. I couldn't live with myself and I will, I know that I will, because that's what I do.”

“You can't know that.”

“You think its a good idea to put me on reception with a ton of fit gay men coming in – because lets face it, we'll be courting the pink pound won't we? And with my history you trust me not to ruin our marriage? Because I don't, Christian. I don't.” Syed shoved his plate away from him. “I might not know everything, but I know that much.”

Christian pushed a bit of chicken around his plate and then looked up. “And I know that since I first met you I've slept with a lot of guys and you haven't even flinched. I mean, where do you want to start? There was James and that barista guy at the caf and Leyton after your honeymoon and that hot one with the dark hair and that tradesman guy with no personality and no hair and a couple of guys in Grand Canaria when I thought we were on a break...and then you gave one guy a blowjob and I blew a gasket.”

“I lied,” Syed argued.

“Yeah, you did.”

“And I lost thousands, Christian!”

“You thought you were alone. You thought you had to deal with it alone because you thought there was something you couldn't tell mean and there isn't, Sy. There isn't because you had it right first. I can't not have you in my life, do you remember saying that? Well you were right, I can't. If there's anything you need – anything – you can tell me. If that's support or to get a break from your family or...or another guy. Whatever it is that you need, I can live with it. Whatever is is that's going through your head, that you're worried about, you can tell me, Syed, because I can't not have you in my life.”

“But Maybe that's exactly what I'm worried about! Maybe I'm worried about how much you can take, how far I can push you, how much shit I can stir up and expect you to stand by me and you will, Christian, because you made that perfectly clear when we left Walford. I will break you and break you and break you. I'll slip up again and I'll see other men and I'll loose all our money and ruin us completely and I will shatter your heart and your soul again and again and you'll still stand by me, Christian, because that's who you are and I'll have to live with that. I'll have to look at your face knowing I did that to you...and you expect to open that door to me doing that to you and ask me to be happy.”

“I admit, its a risk.”

“Then how can you-” Syed started, sitting up suddenly.

“Because what if it doesn't happen like that, Sy,” Christian suggested earnestly. “What if it turns out ok? What if its you and me and our little gym and our little family? Walking into work and seeing you at reception and being met with your smile...that alone is worth the risk of everything else. So one or other or both of us might slip up and have sex.”

“Might send thousands down the drain,” Syed added.

“You won't!”

“You can't know that,” Syed protested. “I can't know that!”

“I know that I trust you and that since we'd both have absolute access to all the accounts there's absolutely not reason not to trust you. Besides, I'd have to trust you, you'd be there first opening up in the mornings.”

“Why would I be there first?”

“Cause I'll be dropping Yasmin at school and I don't want you to see me cry.”

“You don't want me to see you cry even though I know you'll cry like a baby every time?”

Christian chuckled, silently acknowledging the point. He pushed Syed's dinner back towards him.

“I'm not hungry.”

“You worry too much. Eat your dinner.”

Syed got up, shoving his chair back. “Stop telling me what to do!”

Christian sat back, shocked. He wasn't was he? He was worried about his husband. His husband whom he loved and had nearly lost so many times. Yet before Christian could find the words to protest Syed was storming out of the house leaving a trail of slammed doors in his wake.

 

Christian finished his dinner, cleared the table and did the washing up. He put the news on and called Yasmin on skype. Talked to Amira for a while and then his Mum appeared online and he talked to her as well. When the conversations were over he had a shower and put on some comfy pyjamas and crawled into bed, hugging Syed's pillow. Christian wondered about sending him a text, wanting to give him the space that Syed so obviously needed and yet also needing to know he was ok.

Around ten o'clock the door snipped open and then shut. Keys dropped onto the table in the hallway in the same old way they always had. Boots were kicked off. Familiar socked footsteps trailed up the stairs.

Christian looked up, sadly.

Syed stood in the doorway, leather jacket and jeans on, looking old and worn out. “I went to mosque,” He explained.

“Its ok, I'm not your keeper. You're allowed to go out, Sy.”

“I thought you might be worried,” Syed looked Christian over. Could he do anything without hurting his husband? Without making him worry about him? Without tearing at heart strings?

“I thought you needed some space,” Christian explained.

Syed stared Christian down. The pillow, the pyjamas...he felt so guilt all of a sudden and yet so resigned. He owed this man so much, if Christian wanted a business then Christian would have a business and he was just going to have to live with it, wasn't he?

“You know this is a bad idea, Christian. You have to.”

Christian heard in those words, the answer he'd been looking for. No, not the words. The tone, the body language, the resignation. The total loss of any will. “Probably,” He answered honestly. The pillow was discarded. He didn't need it any more. What Christian needed was right here, finally.

Syed peeled off his jacket and slipped out of jeans, heading towards the bed in his boxers and t-shirt.

Christian watched as Syed slid in to the bed and then into his arms, leaning against Christian's chest where he rested agains the head board.

“Then why?” Syed asked to the ceiling.

“Because you're my husband and I want to build a life with you.” 

“In spite of everything?”

“ _Because_ of everything.”

Syed was silenced by that comment.

Christian squeezed Syed, “Sleep on it.” He kissed Syed's hair.

“I don't deserve you,” Syed told him.

“Yeah, well, I love you so you're stuck with me.”

“Apparently,” Syed muttered.

Christian smiled. He had his husband right where he wanted him.

~

End Note: The poem Christian quotes is from Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats.


End file.
